This Is How It Could Be
by honestgreenpirate
Summary: Camelot is descending firmly into death, bloodshed and oblivion. To stand against it will take the might of a King. Feeling in the mood for some angsty future fic? AU of course and featuring my OC Jocelyn.
1. PAIN

This is How it Could Be

_There is pain. And fear. And suspicion._

_There are secrets. And pacts. And betrayal._

_There is grief. And bitterness. And seclusion._

_There is no way they can survive this. It will be the end._

* * *

_**Pain**_

No one was supposed to get hurt, and no one was supposed to die.

That day Arthur lost three knights, struck down before they even knew the beast was upon them.

If any other proof was needed to confirm the idiocy of this quest, it was when Cador misfired, the beast twisting from the arrow's trajectory and leaving it free to bury itself in Jocelyn's side.

Arthur had said _no_ three times before agreeing to her accompanying them. He had doubts as to the wisdom of her coming and hadn't spoken to her for the entire ride, hoping his displeasure would make itself known and she would think twice before demanding to be part of a quest again. He had had no choice but to capitulate, however. Jocelyn had been confined to the castle for over a week due to the danger the kingdom was in and Uther's decision to allow only Arthur and his knights to roam abroad. If Arthur had refused her request she would only have followed them anyway, or have gone off by herself and got into greater trouble. At least this way he could set down some rules.

She was supposed to stay back, safe and out of the way while they dealt with the threat, turning her part in this perilous adventure into barely more than a ride through the forest. But she hadn't kept to her promise, edging forward inch by inch until she was too close.

And now she was clasping her side, vermillion blood staining her soft white hands, and she was sinking to her knees before him, eyes wide, staring and shocked.

Jocelyn was going to die.

Blind fury seized him and he rushed forward, a single powerful thrust dispatching the beast with strength that was drawn from panic.

He reached her side; kneeling in the mud that was mixed with blood, part beast, part Jocelyn.

Her breathing was sharp and shallow, and she was fainting, grasping onto his sleeve with white knuckled force, obliterating white pain searing through her side.

It is Arthur's fault, he was sure of it, he had killed Jocelyn and no one would ever forgive him, least of all Morgana or his father.

He knows nothing can be done, not even Gaius can fix this deep wound that will not stop pouring out Jocelyn's life, no matter how hard he presses it, binding it so tightly she screams.

As he lifts her onto his horse, she passes out and he oscillates between considering it a mercy so she doesn't have to suffer the pain anymore or make his skin crawl with brave whimpers that escape her tightly clenched jaw, and being scared that this means that she will slip away without him even noticing.

Gritting his teeth, he swings himself up behind her and kicks his horse into a gallop, riding hell for leather back to Camelot and ignoring the knights trailing behind him.

Miraculously, and Arthur is sure it is a miracle, or sorcery and he doesn't even care, Gaius can help Jocelyn, and he does, slowing the bleeding and then stopping it all together.

Morgana is beside herself and is taken from Jocelyn's room in hysterics, sobbing that she had known, _known_ it was a bad idea for Jocelyn to leave the castle, she had _told_ her.

Uther sits in the antechamber, slumped in a high backed, ornately carved, and uncomfortable wooden chair, chin propped up on one hand, staring into the fire. The women in his life so often leave him in this position, waiting, helpless and hoping against hope that he would be able to see them alive again.

Arthur paces beside him, short, measured strides that take ten to make it from one end of the room to the other. A brief pause and he turns and goes back again.

Merlin is sitting at the long table off to one side, an informality Uther only allows because he is unaware of it. His fingers tap out a rapid rhythm on the surface, silent for the most part, but growing quicker and louder whenever a particularly distressing thought occurs to him.

Finally, finally the door opens and two maids scurry out, bearing bowls of bloodied water they take off to the kitchens. Gaius emerges after them, looking tired and older, and gives the King a weary nod.

Uther starts to his feet and clasps his physician briefly on the shoulder before entering the room, Arthur and Merlin close behind him.

Jocelyn is so pale it is almost translucence and she is incredibly still, too carefully arranged for it to be reassuring. Close inspection, however, reveals her chest rising and falling very slightly, light breaths that come as a relief to every man in the room.

She remains this way for several days, waking briefly once or twice, but delirious and groggy before succumbing to sleep once more.

The day Arthur enters her room to see her awake and smiling, is a shining landmark in his life. She is propped up on her pillows, watching birds wheeling through the sky out of her window, but turns when she hears him come in. She gives him a small smile, but puts a finger to her lips and nods towards were Morgana is deep in the sleep of the exhausted by the fire.

He nods as well and comes to sit near her, remaining silent. He doesn't actually have to speak to her, after all. Later he will apologise and she will tell him not to be ridiculous, but he won't think it is ridiculous at all and will need to do it. Now, however, he will sit here quietly, happy just to know that she will be ok. Fine. All right.

Not dying today.


	2. FEAR

This is How it Could Be

_There is pain. And fear. And suspicion._

_There are secrets. And pacts. And betrayal. _

_There is grief. And bitterness. And seclusion._

_There is no way they can survive this. It will be the end._

* * *

Chapter Two

_**Fear**_

Uther Pendragon is on the warpath, in his own court, and there is no one who can be considered safe, except for perhaps Arthur and he will be put through hell before reaching the finish line.

The rumours of a sorcerer, and possible accomplices, actually residing in Camelot are supposedly from an anonymous, yet highly reliable, source. It hasn't escaped anyone's notice, however, that Percival's pockets are fuller than they have been in years and he no longer shies away from paying for his round at the Rising Sun. Arthur notices and Percival returns battered and bruised from training that day.

Uther grills his son and makes some not so subtle threats and then sets him to investigation. Arthur spends most of his time marching his guards off in one direction and hurrying off in the other himself, intent on warning someone against his father's orders.

Gaius was a sorcerer and has won Uther's trust through hard work and betrayal and lies. But this trust is tenuous and has never been absolute. He has been imprisoned and sentenced to execution before; it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine it happening again. Old age and frailty are no protection against a King's wrath.

Gwen is in a similar position, easily sentenced without trial, several years ago but it is a cloud that never clears. And she doesn't have the reassurance of being valued by the court, not by Uther in any case whatever other members of his court may feel. To the king, she is merely another servant, who is useful for now but could easily be replaced if the occasion should arise.

Jocelyn is the King's ward, but this is far from enough to raise her above suspicion. It seems that anyone who has ever opposed the King and his law is assumed to also be practicing magic and her chambers are searched more than once. She really does have nothing to hide, but vociferous demands of just what Uther thinks he is doing doesn't help her cause.

Merlin has been under suspicion more times than can be counted, only just escaping time and time again, through the quick thinking, lies and sacrifices of his friends. He does have things hidden in his chamber that would result in his immediate death if they were discovered and subtlety has never been his strong point. To find himself in the cells, yet again, would be unsurprising, to say the least, and he is all but resigned to his fate, almost determined to abandon Camelot before Camelot abandons him.

Morgana is the most scared. Pale and sleep deprived, jumping at the smallest noise, she is hard pressed to greet yet another inspection by Uther's guards with the cold contempt it deserves. She can feel herself slowly crumbling and drifting out of control. It has been years since she has trusted Uther and she has been waiting for the time he finally betrays her and she is forced to flee. Where she doesn't know, anywhere but here.

When Uther is campaigning so fiercely, people are right to be scared, and no one has seen him this determined since he started his war on magic.

* * *

**This leads on to the next chapter which should be up soon.**


	3. SUSPICION

This is How it Could Be

_There is pain. And fear. And suspicion._

_There are secrets. And pacts. And betrayal. _

_There is grief. And bitterness. And seclusion._

_There is no way they can survive this. It will be the end._

* * *

Chapter Three

_**Suspicion**_

Merlin has been in the right place at the right time once too often; Morgana has known what is going to happen too many times and there have been too many freak accidents in her chambers; Jocelyn has been too vocal in her opposition; Gwen has been too lucky.

All of them are in danger and under suspicion.

From the start, Arthur wants to do away with any doubts his father might have about their allegiances and their link to magic, but there are incidents he cannot explain away and things that come as a surprise to him.

Gwen's father (and Jocelyn, but Uther has conveniently all but forgotten about that) was saved from a deadly plague years ago, lived in perfect health until he himself was found guilty of witchcraft and executed. Is it such a stretch of the imagination then, that Gwen is also a sorceress? She had escaped from Hengist's clutches, was not gored by the wild boar that pounded down on her and looked fit to rip her to shreds, she didn't suffer the fever that struck almost every other person in Camelot and killed many, and the pull she seemed to have on his son, and the affection his ward held for her, was it so fantastic to think that this was all the work of enchantment?

Arthur managed to persuade the King that, for the most part, Gwen was entirely innocent. That it was he who had saved her Hengist and the wild boar and that she was simply lucky not to have caught the fever, something that wasn't entirely unheard of. Uther was forced to acknowledge this, but Arthur's arguments merely confirmed his other concerns, and he was convinced that, even if it was not the product of magic, Arthur's affection for Gwen, a servant, should not been encouraged.

In some ways, Jocelyn's was an easier case to handle. She was Uther's ward, the younger daughter of one of his dearest friends, and, in some way, he did care for her. It would take a lot for him to turn fully against her. But he had had to deal with her small, and then larger and more dangerous and life threatening, disobediences for years. She had railed against him on many subjects, and the injustices she perceived, but never more passionately than when they related to sorcery. She had been the victim of it more than once, yet still she argued against his rulings, rarely with any success. There was not personal affection that prompted her arguments, cold hard logic fueled her anger and made her resent him when he refused to listen.

Uther had thought, when the three were growing up together, that Morgana would one day marry Arthur and make a perfect queen for Camelot, graceful and serene. In later years, he began to acknowledge the fact that it was perhaps Jocelyn who was higher in his son's affections and, though she did not have the poise of her sister, she cared about the city and its people and there were worse people to take the position formerly held by his long dead wife. Now, he was beginning to doubt whether he wanted either of Gorlois' girls anywhere near the throne, or having any influence over his son, though in the latter case it seemed it was too late for that to be prevented.

He would never admit it, not to himself, his son or his most trusted advisors, but Morgana frightened him. When she arrived in Camelot soon after her father's death, she had resembled Gorlois closely and even as she grew older Uther could still see the likeness clearly in her expression and actions. He had been closer to Morgana than he ever had to Jocelyn, who, more like her mother in nearly all respects, had remained a mystery to him, and when Morgana challenged him he paused to consider her words, which he rarely did for anyone. For Morgana, however, maturity came coupled with anger and she moved from presenting an opinion contrary to his quietly and in private, to denouncing him in front of the whole court. These were actions he could not support and she had been thrown into the cells more than once, their reunions with each other awkward and forgiveness hard won, until she couldn't bring herself to look at him with anything but cold contempt and he could feel her eyes raking him whenever his back was turned.

Merlin, Uther had thought for some time, was an idiot. But he was an idiot who had somehow managed to help his son time and time again and win Arthur's friendship. He had no skill with a blade, that much was apparent, and there was no battle strategy in his thoughts, so how had he succeeded when so many had failed? Then there were the times when someone's life was hanging in the balance, whether it was Arthur's or Morgana's, Jocelyn's or sometimes Gwen's: they were severely ill and Gaius was beginning to look grave and grief started to pervade the corridors. Merlin would disappear and then there would be a miraculous recovery. The next time he saw the patient they would be all smiles once more. That could not be normal.

No matter how often Arthur greeted accusations that Merlin was a sorcerer with derision, even claims that fell from Merlin's own lips, Arthur could not feel entirely comfortable with his own decision. Yes, Merlin could be completely idiotic, could completely disregard all court law, could fight for someone he loved (maybe, perhaps, but no, he had never really loved Gwen); but something – there was something.

Arthur sometimes thought he knew his servant, understood him, but then there would be the flash of something in his eyes, darkness in his expression and he would be convinced that Merlin was hiding something. Then the hint was gone and Merlin was smiling again and offering an inane comment on the situation.

Merlin was almost the hardest to defend, Arthur had learnt to pray on his father's social prejudices though and by some judicious words accidentally let slip, he could remind Uther that he was just a servant, no one important, there was no chance he could be a sorcerer, it was _Merlin_.

Each time he presented his argument, and it was often, so, so often, Uther believed it a little less and Arthur began to believe it not at all.

Morgana was the most difficult. She was already so powerful in other ways, so proud and distant, beautiful but cold, she was divorcing herself from the rest of them, not even as close to Gwen as she had been and the rift between her and Jocelyn was all but a gaping chasm now. Uther feared her, what she might do, and dealt with his fear through aggression. Arthur did not know how much longer he could keep her safe.

He was heading towards defeat, he could feel it, no one could out last Uther indefinitely. There was a hideous part of him that was telling him to pick, he couldn't save everyone, who was it to be? His sister, who he had grown up with, or the woman he might possibly love, but would never be allowed to have. His best friend, who understood better than anyone, or his servant who he trusted and who was always by his side to help, help make Camelot a better place.

How could he chose between them and would he even be given the chance?

Would the moment be taken from before he acted?

Would their blood be on his hands?


End file.
